


Crowley's Co-Star

by Mossyrock



Series: Ineffable Husbands Bingo [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A porn AU with no smut? You ask, I know, I took it as a bit of a challenge, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), It became a little sweeter than citrusy, M/M, No Smut, Porn Star AU, i don't really know why, porn au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 18:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossyrock/pseuds/Mossyrock
Summary: Crowley has been a porn star for a while. He's older than all the other men and feeling a little left out and lonely.Until he steps on set and meets his new co-star - a soft, sweet, older man. Crowley is immediately intrigued.For my Ineffable Husbands bingo prompt - Porn Star AU.





	Crowley's Co-Star

Anthony Crowley wasn’t new to the porn industry. In fact, he was older than all of his current co-stars. By his age, most other porn stars had retired and moved on. But not Crowley. He was blessed with good genes. He looked the same as he had 20 years ago and had the type of body that took very little to maintain. He worked out enough to keep a bit of definition to his muscles, but not enough to be ‘jacked’, as the kids would say. It was a look that worked for him.

His lank, ginger frame somehow appealed to people. He had gained such a following that it meant that he was still getting cast long after he would've thought he’d be cast aside for younger men.

He was lucky. But he was also tired. He was getting sick of the endless revolving door of younger men coming in and out of the industry. He didn’t know anyone anymore and the way they talked almost exclusively in abbreviations or in sentences lacking any semblance of grammar meant getting to know them was next to impossible. 

Honestly, he felt more like a dad to these boys than a contemporary. And not in a sexy way.

Which was why he found himself so intrigued when his newest co-star walked in. An older man who looked to be about the same age as him. His blond hair was shockingly not the hideous yellow sported by most ‘blonds' and his smile was wide and genuine as he greeted and introduced himself to every cast and crew member on set.

By the time the new guy made his way over to him, Crowley was fairly certain he was infatuated.

“Hello, I'm Ezra,” The stranger greeted enthusiastically, as if he hadn’t just met 50 other new people. He held out his hand, a strangely formal gesture, considering what they were about to do to each other.

“Hi. I’m Anthony. But people just call me Crowley,” He said, trying not to make a fool of himself, taking the offered hand in his. It was warm and soft.

His robe had slipped, giving Crowley a preview of what he was about to get. Ezra's chest hair was a shimmering gold, confirming that the man was indeed a natural blond. He wasn’t fat, but he was rounded, soft. Like a kindly librarian, rather than the hard muscle, questionable tattoos and angular faces Crowley was usually paired with.

It was a change of pace that Crowley was very much looking forward to.

“I know who you are. I’ve been a fan since I saw that movie you did ten years ago...” Ezra trailed off, sounding embarrassed.

“Doctor Ten Inch?” He asked.

“No. Not porn. The one about Einstein.”

“You _saw_ that?” Crowley was flabbergasted. No one had seen that movie. He had thought any copies of it had been destroyed. It was his one and only job at his actual passion – being a ‘serious actor’.

Not that he hated porn, of course. He wasn’t ashamed and it had treated him very well. But it was a different type of acting. He longed to tread the boards, playing Hamlet or Macbeth. Something dramatic and meaningful.

But it had been a long time since he’d given up any hope of ever getting that chance.

“Of course! It was great,” Ezra answered.

Not even the director had thought the movie was great. But Crowley somehow knew that Ezra wasn’t lying. What a strange man.

“Alright fellas, we ready to go?” The director called.

* * *

Nine hours later, sweaty and tired, they retired to the shared dressing room. Usually Crowley would hate sharing a space, but he found he didn’t mind much when it came to Ezra, or ‘Aziraphale’, his stage name.

“It’s a play on my real name and the name of an angel,” He’d told Crowley, in between takes. Crowley couldn’t help but think it suited him rather well. And he liked the way it rolled off his tongue. 

They’d talked a little between scenes and Crowley had been happy to discover the man was well spoken and incredibly funny – so much so that they had been told off by the director for laughing too much, ruining several takes (not that Crowley minded having to re-shoot them). Ezra was also charming and intelligent. Not to mention kind, taking the time to talk to everyone.

Crowley couldn’t help liking him instantly and intensely. And he despised himself for it. He was a grown man. He shouldn't be getting crushes on strangers. But it was too late. 

Strangely, while Crowley was long since over the nerves and embarrassment of being naked and having sex with strangers, he was otherwise socially anxious. But Ezra pulled him into conversation easily, regaling him with tales of his own time as a stage actor, having actually been part of the RSC. He hadn’t played a major role, he’d said modestly, but Crowley had been envious and impressed anyway.

This was his first porn role, he admitted, and Crowley was only too happy to guide him.

“How was your first day?” Crowley inquired, as they towelled off and hydrated themselves.

“It was interesting. Not as different from stage acting as I’d expected,” He replied thoughtfully, “Of course, I owe you a big thank you, for helping me. I have to admit, I was a little anxious about the whole thing.” He looked sheepish. It was bit strange, considering the intimacy they’d shared all day. But Crowley couldn’t help being charmed despite himself.

“I’d never have guessed you were anything but relaxed about it,” He reassured him.

Ezra giggled at that.

“I was shaking like a leaf! How did you not feel it?”

Probably because he was too nervous himself, he thought. But he didn’t say anything, merely shrugging and smiling encouragingly at the other man. 

“You did well.”

“Thank you.” His big blue eyes were earnest as they gazed into Crowley’s deep golden brown pair.

“No need to thank me. I’m happy to help.” He waved off the thanks, uncomfortable with praise. The smile on Ezra’s face was reward enough. He wanted to kick himself for his own sentimental thoughts. He wasn’t a sentimental man, by nature. Anyone who’d ever met him would attest to it. He was known for being too serious and a little bit moody.

But this strangely happy man had brought something out in him. 

“Alright. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He left with a cheery wave.

Crowley watched him leave, excited by the prospect of spending more time with this magnetic stranger.

Crowley had a rule to never get involved with co-stars. It only got messy and complicated. When he was young and naive, he’d confused the physical intimacy he shared with his co-stars as emotional intimacy. It'd never ended well.

But not just that. Crowley had long since given up on finding love full stop. He’d been alone so long that he forgot what it felt like to care about someone and have someone care about him in return. He was fine with that, he told himself. He didn’t need a companion. He had his plants and that was enough.

He just needed to get through the next few weeks with Ezra and then they’d likely never see each other again. He’d guard his heart and it would be over before he knew it.

* * *

It was the longest, most torturous few weeks of his life. Every morning he’d arrive on set, tired and grumpy, only to be greeted by Ezra’s beaming smile, a “good morning, Anthony, dear”, and a plate of delicious pastries. He always brought in enough goodies for the whole crew. Soon he was everyone’s favourite, even remembering who had what allergy or intolerance and bringing specially baked goods for each.

Crowley could barely remember his own name so early in the morning, let alone 50 odd cast and crew and all their assorted family members.

It should’ve made him grumpier, having to deal with a morning person. But as Ezra handed him his coffee (just how he liked it) and a raspberry danish (his favourite) with a wide smile, he couldn’t find it in his heart to be as grouchy at all.

Each day was filled with laughter and stories and Ezra touching him. He was glad that touching Ezra was in the script, because he wouldn’t have been able to keep his hands off him anyway.

They had become good friends, despite their vastly different dispositions. They talked about everything, from TV shows to deep life experiences and philosophies. He learnt all Ezra’s favourite foods, books and the fact that he was single – knowledge that Crowley hoarded away in his mind, carefully remembering for future reference. Every second they spent together was another second Crowley was falling further and further. He couldn’t stop himself.

By the time filming was over, Crowley was certain he’d never love anyone like he loved Ezra.

At the end of the last day, Crowley trudged behind Ezra as they made their way back to the dressing room. He was dreading saying goodbye, but also somewhat relieved. He couldn’t breathe anymore without wanting him. Not just sexually, of course. They’d spent many hours pressed together, thrusting and writhing. It was great (_the best Crowley had ever had_), but that wasn’t all Crowley wanted.

He wanted him around. He wanted his stories and his old, terrible jokes – which consisted almost entirely of puns. He wanted his smiles and his soulful blue eyes, gazing into his. And not just because the script or director said so, but because Ezra _wanted_ to.

He’d fallen head over heels, and he hated himself for it. He’d tried to be careful, but Ezra had snuck around his carefully maintained walls and set up camp.

“Hey, Anthony?” Ezra asked, uncharacteristically nervous, as they dressed. Ezra had taken to calling him by his first name. It felt strange, having gone by his last name for so long. But it was nice. Another reason Ezra had made his way into Crowley’s heart. It felt like having family again, something Crowley hadn’t had in many years, since he’d been thrown out of his parents’ house. To say they hadn’t taken the revelation of his sexuality well would be an understatement.

But he’d long since moved on from that. Or at least, he didn’t think about it.

He playfully retaliated by calling Ezra ‘angel’ – because of his stage name and his angelic nature. It made Ezra blush and smile every time he said it, so he had no plans to ever stop. 

“Yes, angel?” He asked, watching as Ezra put on and zipped up his trousers. He was going to miss that view.

“I’m having dinner with some of my RSC friend’s tomorrow night. I know you were interested in maybe joining the company, so I thought maybe you could come along? I’m sure you’d get on well and maybe they could give you some tips,” He rambled, before finally coming to an abrupt halt, not so much at the end of his thoughts, but rather like he'd deliberately made himself stop talking. He was nervously picking at his perfectly manicured nails, looking at Crowley from beneath his golden lashes.

Crowley wanted to say yes. He wanted to jump at the chance.

Firstly, getting the chance to network with the people who could help him make the leap to stage acting was incredibly tempting. It could be the opportunity he had waited for since his childhood, when he’d first dreamt of being an actor.

Secondly, not having to say goodbye to Ezra just yet. While Crowley stood by his stance on dating co-stars, he was going to miss the comradery they shared. The invitation was meant just as a friendly gesture, nothing more, he was sure. But, while he was sure of Ezra’s feelings, he couldn’t trust his own. He liked Ezra far more than he should.

Thirdly, Crowley didn’t have many friends, nor did he go out much. His life was a solitary existence. He usually didn’t mind it so much. Until he met someone nice and desperately wished he wasn’t so socially awkward. Strangely, he hadn’t felt awkward talking to Ezra. They'd hit it off immediately and he felt they could talk for days without pause. It was a novel feeling and he enjoyed it. He was going to miss it intensely.

He should say yes.

He should say no.

He became aware that the seconds were ticking by since Ezra had asked and Crowley was just staring at him like a crazy man as he internally debated his own heart. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah, no. Sorry, angel. But I have a birthday party. Not mine, a friend,” He babbled. He shut himself up, aware that he seemed even crazier since he’d opened his mouth.

“Oh. Alright. Not a worry. It was just a thought.” He gave Crowley a weak smile and Crowley felt like shit. But he couldn’t take it back now without seeming like either a terrible friend or a terrible liar. So, he said nothing.

“Sorry. Maybe next time?” He offered, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time.

“Sure, sure.” Another weak smile.

“Well, I’d better go. Gotta get out of here before the peak hour traffic. You know how the M25 gets.” He huffed a pathetic, half-hearted chuckle. So much for being an actor. The excuse was the worst, but he couldn’t think of anything better when Ezra was pouting at him like he was. He wanted to hug him and comfort him, but if he took him into his arms, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let him go ever again.

“It’s been great working with you, my dear,” Ezra shook his hand again, like that first day. Their eyes locked, but Crowley had to look away before he did something stupid. Like declare his love for him or something equally as ridiculous.

Instead he simply replied, “Same here, angel.” Then turned and left Ezra behind.

As he shut the dressing room door, he couldn’t help but feel he’d made a terrible mistake.

But it was too late.

* * *

Crowley hadn’t left his apartment in four days. But he was fine. He wasn’t moping. He was too cool to mope. Moping was for the sad and lonely, which Crowley most definitely _was not_.

His manager had called a few times and he’d said hello and goodbye to the delivery drivers of his takeout, so he wasn’t completely avoiding human contact, he reasoned. But it was a flimsy excuse and he knew it.

He missed Ezra. He missed him so fiercely that he wanted to scream or cry. He wanted to call him, but he’d never actually gotten around to getting his number. He was a fool.

If it hadn’t been for his next movie, he might have stayed cocooned in his impersonal, cavernous apartment for far longer. But he had his next job lined up and he couldn’t let them down. Besides, he was a professional.

He cleaned himself up, jumped in his Bentley and headed for the studio. He wasn’t running late exactly, but by the time he arrived, the entire cast and crew had almost finished setting up and getting ready. He felt their eyes on him as he gave them all half-hearted mumbled greetings. Even that was a departure from his usual arrival on set, where he avoided as many people as possible and said nothing. Ezra and his cheery hellos had rubbed off on him – no pun intended.

A few crew members he recognised gave him strange looks at his unusually friendly demeanour. He didn’t feel unusually happy. In fact, he felt about as miserable as he ever had. But he tried his best to leave it outside the studio doors. It was his job to act however they wanted him to. Pining over someone he barely knew wasn’t in the script.

He made his way through the halls to his dressing room. He pushed open the doors and stopped dead.

Ezra stood in the middle of the room, fiddling with his costume. He looked up as he heard the door open and he froze too. He looked uncertain for a moment, before a smile broke out across his angelic face.

“Ezra?” Crowley breathed, unsure this wasn’t a dream.

“Anthony,” Ezra answered, still smiling his wide, dimpled grin.

Crowley felt himself moving forward, drawn towards the man he loved, before he stopped himself. While his long, bony arms longed to wrap themselves around the shorter, softer man, that wasn’t his place. It felt like years since he’d last seen him, not mere days. He was so far gone, it was pathetic.

They were friends, nothing more.

Still, the most beautiful smile directed at him soothed the hurt of ‘just friends’.

“How have you been?” Ezra asked, smile dimming slightly.

“Oh, you know,” He paused, searching for something to say that wasn’t ‘missing you like it was a full-time job'. He finally settled on “busy.”

“That’s good. It’s good to be busy, isn’t it?” He went back to fussing nervously with his costume. The loss of eye contact hurt like a stab to the heart, but Crowley breathed through the pain. He was just glad to have Ezra back. At least for as long as this movie took to film.

“How was your friends birthday party?”

Crowley had forgotten his lie and for a moment was confused by the question. Ezra looked back up at him through his lashes as he awaited a response. His smile had disappeared, but his face always carried a smile just beneath the surface, ready to lighten any room in an instant. Where others had a ‘resting bitch face’ – a term Crowley had heard directed at himself more than once – Ezra had a resting kind face. It seemed like a smile might bloom at any moment.

“Good. We had a good night.” He hoped there’d be no follow up questions. His brain was lagging, stuck on how beautiful Ezra was and how much he wanted him.

“That’s good,” Ezra looked away again. Crowley just wanted to grab his face in his hands and kiss him, or at least force those blue eyes to look at him for more than a second.

“We have a few minutes, did you want to rehearse some of the scenes?” Crowley blurted.

Ezra looked taken aback, eyebrows raised in shock. Crowley felt the instant regret creeping up his spine. What had he done wrong now?

“I just got dressed!” He was so genuinely scandalised that Crowley couldn’t help but laugh.

“I didn’t mean the sex scenes,” He laughed. Though he certainly wouldn’t be opposed to that, of course, “But I meant the lead up scenes.”

Ezra seemed to mull this over for a moment.

“Alright,” He agreed. He moved forward until he was standing in front of Crowley, gazing up at him with his wide blue eyes. Crowley swallowed and tried not to seem too affected by his proximity.

“My wife won’t be home for a few hours. Maybe you’d like to stay for a drink?” Ezra asked, acting innocent. He batted his lashes and threw Crowley a sweet smile that had more than a hint of mischief hidden around its edges.

He started a few pages in, something Crowley hadn’t expected, but he quickly followed his lead.

“I am rather thirsty,” He replied, trying his hardest to purr seductively. He wasn’t sure how successful he was, but he saw Ezra’s pupils dilate and he had to admire the acting talent. He’d never seen an actor control their automatic bodily reactions like that.

“Well then, let me.” He mimed grabbing a bottle from a bench next to him and attempting to twist off the cap. Seconds ticked by as he groaned and pretended to struggle with the bottle. This wasn’t in the script.

Laughing, Crowley grabbed the imaginary bottle from his hands and pretended to open it with ease. He gave Ezra a cocky look, raising an eyebrow.

“I loosened it for you,” Ezra complained, but ruined it by giggling.

“Sure, you did, tough guy.” They laughed for a moment more, before they both looked at each other again. Their eyes locked and Crowley couldn’t have looked away if he’d wanted to. Ezra’s cheeks were flushed, and he was still grinning from their little game of improv. 

Crowley didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly his arms were full of Ezra and his lips were pressed against his, with more passion than he’d ever kissed anyone with before.

They’d completely gone off script. The kiss didn’t come for another three pages, after a lot of terrible set up and innuendo.

They separated after a moment, both breathing hard. They didn’t go far though, still standing toe-to-toe. Crowley couldn’t think for a long second.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Ezra asked him, looking concerned. Crowley came back to Earth to smile at him in a way that he hoped was reassuring.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He couldn’t think of a single thing Ezra could possibly need to apologise for. Except maybe the fact that he seemed to have sapped any coherent thoughts out of Crowley’s head. Like a brain vampire, but sexy. 

“For kissing you like that. I shouldn’t have presumed…” He was nervously rubbing his hands together and he’d looked away yet again.

“Don’t be. I didn’t mind.”

“You didn’t?” His pleading blue eyes gazed back up at him and he looked hopeful. Crowley wanted to hold him again and protect his innocent soul from any hurt.

“Not at all. You can do it again, if you want.” He shrugged, as if he didn’t care one way or the other. His heart was screaming at him that this was not the time to play it cool, but he ignored it.

“Just to rehearse, you mean?” Ezra inched back into Crowley’s space. Crowley’s heart was viciously beating against his ribs. It felt like it was trying to escape and jump into Ezra’s hands.

“That. Or, you know, if you just wanted to.”

Ezra gave him a breathtaking smile that had Crowley sure he was having a heart attack. Could a heart bruise ribs from the inside? Could the heart bruise itself by beating too hard? Crowley didn’t know, but it felt like if it kept this up, he’d soon find out.

“I’d like that.”

“And if you wanted, we could maybe rehearse some more? Maybe over dinner? Or after dinner?” Crowley held his breath and waited for the inevitable rejection. But it didn’t come.

Instead, Ezra’s hand slipped into his and held on tight.

“That would be wonderful. I am a little nervous about some of the scenes.”

“Anything I can do to help.” Their lips met again, softer and sweeter this time. It was somehow even better than the previous kiss.

“Just to be clear, this would be a date, right?” Ezra asked, pulling back again and making Crowley groan in frustration.

“Yes, angel. It would be a date, if you want it to be.”

“I do, my dear. Very much so,” Ezra rushed to assure him, words tumbling over themselves. It was so unlike the usually well-spoken man. It made Crowley smile.

It seemed like Ezra was going to kiss him again – which Crowley was very much looking forward to – when a knock came on the door.

“Are you fella’s ready? We’re waiting!” The director yelled through the door. Crowley sighed and shared a look with his angel. Ezra dropped the hand still clutched in his with a look of regret. But the regret didn’t last too long, when they both remembered they would spend the whole day wrapped up in each other.

And maybe longer than that too.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little bit silly. I really liked writing this, though I thought it might be one of the harder prompts. 
> 
> I feel bad for my poor, lonely Crowley. Thankfully he has his Ezra to keep him company from now on.
> 
> This is a little OOC for Crowley, but the lack of tech knowledge seems very DT. Sorry, David. Also, Doctor Ten Inch is DT's nickname from Doctor Who. 
> 
> No beta, so let me know if I've missed anything. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. You are wonderful. And you look fabulous today.


End file.
